


A Lost Cause

by Chains_and_Pasta



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Arguments, Canon-Typical Behavior, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, for the gays, past trauma, some light romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27229618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chains_and_Pasta/pseuds/Chains_and_Pasta
Summary: "Candy had always been a mystery to Jason, but Candy was probably a mystery to even himself."Candy Pop is looking for something that can't be found. Jason, Laughing Jack, and Laughing Jill try and handle this the best they can. It's difficult.
Relationships: Candy Pop (Creepypasta)/Jason Meyer | Jason the Toymaker
Comments: 13
Kudos: 12





	1. Fragments of Decay

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: This is my own interpretation of Candy Pop. I'm not a huge fan of his creator's version, but it will probably not be much different from most people's interpretation. If you aren't super familiar with Candy Pop's story, then there's really nothing to stress over.

"Candy? What are you doing?” Jason said. Candy Pop looked up, startled out of his thoughts. The bells attached to his clothes and hair swayed, clinking against one another rhythmically. The jester quickly masked his surprise with a smile, the lost expression on his face morphing into his usual lukewarm grin.

“Oh, Jason...I was searching for something, I believe.” Candy Pop responded in that strange accent of his, glancing away from the toymaker to scan his eyes across the room again. There was something in the back of the jester’s voice, a restrained desperation almost. The room itself was plain, containing a couch, a bookshelf, a dresser, and a few paintings hung up on the wall. None of these things belonged to the jester. Jason quirked an eyebrow at Candy, examining him silently. Candy looked around the room, lost in thought for a moment before turning back to Jason, a wiry smile on his face.

“Is there something you needed?” Candy asked Jason. 

Jason stared at him thoughtfully. “Nothing at all, Poppet,” He said, his voice gentle, as if he were trying not to disturb someone from their sleep. “What were you looking for? Would you like some help?” Candy looked away from him again, his small smile turning to a nervous grin as he chuckled.

“If I’m to be honest, I can’t seem to remember. But!-” He turned back to Jason, his eyes glinting, “-I know it was important! I must find it soon!” Reinvigorated, Candy Pop slipped past Jason like quicksilver, moving to the next room, his search becoming more feverish. Jason followed him in there a moment later, delicately taking him by the hand.

“Candy-” He started, “-Candy, hold on now dear,” He waited until Candy’s eyes met his own to continue. “Darling, you’re making yourself go crazy, searching for something you can’t even remember-” Jason held back a scoff, “Why don’t you try to relax? I’ll ask my dolls to look around, I’m sure that if what you’re looking for is in my factory, they’ll find it.”

Candy’s hand tightened around Jason’s palm, his soft purple eyes still glancing around the room. “Perhaps my eyes have swept over it, by chance I simply didn’t see what was so obvious before,” he muttered, as if he hadn’t heard Jason. He began to pull away, but Jason held firm to the other’s hands, tugging him back.

He placed his palm on Candy’s cheek, coaxing his head away from the door and turning it to face Jason again. “Come back into the workshop with me, keep me company.” Jason pleaded to the jester. The bells attached to Candy Pop jingled as he looked into Jason’s honey-colored eyes, reflecting in them. Candy paused, then nodded, and Jason smiled back at him, pleased with his answer.

Jason led Candy back to his workshop, sure to keep their fingers intertwined, worried that the moment he let go Candy would disappear again. Jason held open the door, and Candy sauntered in, looking much more confident than earlier. Jason wondered if Candy Pop was faking his confidence, or if he had already forgotten what he was doing earlier. It was always difficult to tell. Candy had always been a mystery to Jason, but Candy was probably a mystery to even himself.

Candy Pop dipped into an overstuffed armchair near Jason’s workbench, his legs propped up on the armrests as he lounged across it, calm and relaxed. Jason called for one of his dolls, talking to them in a quiet voice.

“Have a look around and see if you can find anything… Poppet says he’s missing something again. You know the drill...Yes, go on and tell the other dolls as well. I doubt you’ll find anything- or anyone- but double check for me. Alright, thank you, dear.” He finished, closing the door behind the doll as they walked out. He glanced over to Candy Pop, who was absentmindedly picking up tools from Jason’s workbench, examining them idly. He sighed, slivers of guilt imbedding themselves into Jason’s skin like splinters. 

He knew what Candy Pop was looking for. But he also knew that the jester had no chance of ever finding it. 

Jason returned to his worktable, picking up a few swatches of fabric he had been considering. “Which do you prefer?” He asked Candy, holding them up as he compared them. Candy stared at the options for a moment, before his eyes drifted over to the fabric rack at the side of the room. 

“You should go with orange,” he mused, his voice soft and confident.

“Orange!” Jason exclaimed, peering down at the swatches he had chosen. “What’s wrong with these colors, they’re perfectly nice. You can’t choose between these instead?” 

Candy gave him an amused smirk, his eyes half-lidded. He always looked like he was about to drift off into a dream. “‘Perfectly nice’ seems rather boring, does it not? You are not the type to settle for the mundane, Jason. That is why you have me.” 

Jason pursed his lips, if only to prevent a smile from slipping onto his cheeks. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said finally, putting down the other fabrics. 

It was clear that Candy Pop was not all there. His head was perpetually up in the clouds, his mind completely lost in a swirling, unending fog. Whatever had happened to him in his past had messed him up, and most days his thoughts were as knotted up as a ball of yarn. His memory came and went like the tide. Some days, he failed to remember Jason’s name. Other days, Candy would reminisce about things that happened centuries ago like it was yesterday. 

One day, Candy appeared out of the blue in Jason’s workshop. 

“Hello,” Candy Pop greeted, his voice as light as mist. His usual indifferent smile seemed happier than usual. 

“Hello, Poppet,” Jason replied, his attention focused on a toy he was sewing together. Candy watched him work for a moment, before leaning against the workbench, tilting his head towards the toymaker. His long blue hair falling in front of Jason, the bells tied to the ends of it jingling brightly.

“I was wondering...my mallet has a loose bolt,” Candy Pop began. Jason sighed. 

“Leave it here. I’ll find some time tomorrow to fix it.”

Candy grinned, his eyes glimmering. “I appreciate your assistance. If my sister found out I’d broken it she’d throw a fit,” he said nonchalantly. Jason paused, his brain taking a second to process what his boyfriend had just said. He looked up.

“You...have a sister?” He asked slowly. This seemed too strange of a prank for Candy to pull. Candy nodded. 

“You didn’t know?” 

“You never mentioned it before…” Jason mumbled, confused. Candy seemed to consider that for a moment, before shrugging dismissively, his bells jingling.

“I thought I had. It doesn’t matter. I would be happy to introduce you two, but I don’t believe she would enjoy that.”

“Why is that?” Jason questioned, his mind still reeling from this new information.

Candy let out a musical laugh. “She isn’t as friendly as I am. Doesn’t trust others easily. Perhaps I’ll ask her anyway!” He left after that.

The next day, when Candy Pop came by to retrieve his mallet, Jason offhandedly remarked, “I never got your sister’s name, by the way.” Candy was turning the mallet over in his hands when he heard this, a dreamy look on his face. 

“What sister?” He asked politely, his eyes clouded.

A few months later, Jason learned her name was Candy Cane, and that they were twins. That was all he really ever managed to find out. Candy Pop’s memories of her were vague, twisted up, and knotted together. He always liked to mention that he was visiting her soon. He could never remember the last time he saw her. Jason eventually mentioned this to Laughing Jack, surprised- and somewhat relieved- to find out that Pop had mentioned his sister to the clown as well. But the relief quickly fell back into trepidation when they realized that neither of them knew any additional information on the subject.

Jack sat in an armchair, his striped sleeves crossed over one another as he glared at the wall, thinking. Jason fretted, twisting fabric between his hands. They were in Jason’s workshop.

“Do you think it’s some sort of prank?” Jason asked nervously. 

“If it were, it’d be funnier than this. And he doesn’t pull pranks on me, only you.”

Jason’s head snapped up. “He doesn’t?” he asked sharply, before quickly shaking his head. “Never mind, I’ll ask you about that later. Our focus should be on Pop. How long ago do you think they last saw one another? Why didn’t he mention her earlier to us?” Jason’s red hair had thin streaks of white running through it, his fingernails turned black and sharp as they dug into the fabric he was holding, beginning to tear holes into it. 

Jack continued to glare at the wall, as if it had insulted him. “I know as much as you do, Jason,” he reminded the other. Jason slammed a hand onto his worktable, causing Laughing Jack to jump and finally look up.

“Are you going to sit there and be unhelpful all night? Or are you going to help me fix this?” Jason snapped at him. This new… detail about Candy Pop’s life had been tormenting Jason for weeks now. It reminded Jason how little he knew about the jester. It brought attention to how far gone Candy pop’s mind had drifted. And even worse, it illuminated how much Jason had stood by and ignored it, telling himself that Candy had probably always been this way. The fabric Jason was holding tore in half, his claws ripping through and ruining it.

Jack’s eyes had swiveled to glare at Jason now. His demeanor was darker than normal. “You can’t fix everything, Jason.” Jack seemed about to say something else, before shaking his head slightly and sighing. He uncrossed his arms, tracing a claw against the arm of the chair.

“Listen,” Laughing Jack started, still looking at Jason. “There’s a couple options. One-” Jack lifted his other hand, counting on his fingers. “- his sister isn’t real, and Candy Pop has completely lost his marbles. Two-” Jack said, cutting off Jason’s angry protests to the first option, “Two- she is real, and she wants nothing to do with her brother.” Jack paused for a moment, letting the second option sink in, before continuing. “Pop never remembers when she last came around, and won’t shut up about her visiting. Let’s face it, Pop’s got more than a couple screws loose, she probably thought he was more trouble than he was worth and left.”

Jack leaned back into the chair, crossing his arms again. He had a sad, dark look of resignation on his face. “She most likely abandoned him, and his memory is so fucked up he never realized it.” Jason looked at Jack sadly. If only Jack would allow Jason to try and fix him, but that was an old argument, for another time. Jason wasn’t sure how much he believed Jack’s theories, understanding just how much of the clown’s ideas had come from personal experience. 

“Perhaps his sister’s simply dead,” Jason offered quietly, “his grief won’t allow him to remember.” Jack shrugged his shoulders in response, making a noncommittal sound. The two of them sat for a moment, reflecting on their conclusions, before Jason asked, “So...what should we do about it then?” There was still some way to fix this, right? Jason felt like his control on the world was slipping. Every problem had a solution. Anything broken could be fixed. Jason’s nails dug into the palms of his hands, trying to push his thoughts away and focus.

Jack didn’t say anything for a while. Then he looked at Jason. “What, you think I have all the answers? I’m a clown, Jason.”

The two agreed to avoid any mention of Candy Pop’s sister. Jason noticed the clouded nervousness in Candy's eyes when Jason asked too many questions about the jester's past. It was clear how much he struggled to piece the bits of his past together into something coherent, and Jason decided that answers weren't worth the pain it caused. 

But Candy still seemed to always know something was missing, even if he could never name what. Jason and Jack had gotten good at distracting the jester from his futile searches. Jason couldn’t help but feel a small sense of guilt for doing this, but Jack was always quick to remind Jason that Candy was never going to actually find anything by tearing through Jason’s factory. Jason did agree that he preferred distracting Pop over having to clean up the remnants of a one sided hide-and-seek game.


	2. Flâneur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jill is looking for Laughing Jack, and stumbles upon Candy Pop instead

A loud BANG went off in Jason’s living room, smoke bursting out from the middle of the floor as Laughing Jill made her appearance. Her dark hair was ruffled from her messy entrance, stumbling away from where she had teleported in and waving the rest of the dark smoke away. She quickly surveyed the room, checking to make sure she hadn’t broken anything this time, before rushing out. She often wondered how Jack was able to make his entrances so effortless. He used his teleportation constantly, silently appearing with a soft puff of sweet-smelling black smoke. Jill’s teleportation went off like a firecracker, loud and uncoordinated, smoke spiraling out in random directions. Perhaps she just needed to practice a bit more, 50 years isn’t much time at all when you’ve got eternity to look forward to.

She strode down the hallways of Jason’s factory, looking in every direction. The factory wasn’t a familiar place to her, frequented more by Jack than herself. She was sure that Jason had given her a tour of the place once before, but that was quite a long time ago, and she was never very good with directions anyways. Left and right were about as meaningless to her as the concept of bacon-flavored toothpaste or computer programming. It went in one ear and out the other. 

Jill continued down the twisting hallways with false confidence, her chest puffed out and her shoulders back. She tried very hard to look like she knew what she was doing, hoping that the mantra _“fake it till you make it!”_ worked with basic luck and memorization as well as confidence. But after taking a left there, and a few rights here, and oh, how about another left, why not? She came to an intersection of hallways. Jill buried her face into her hands, letting out a groan of frustration. She was never going to find Jack at this rate.

“You look a bit turned around, duck.” Said a smooth, lighthearted voice. Jill jumped, lifting her head up to the ceiling. Candy Pop was there, his legs wrapped around a dangling light fixture. He hung upside down, his long blue hair swaying gracefully as he observed her. Jill wondered how she hadn’t spotted him at first, but to be fair, she had been in the middle of an emotional crisis.

She stood taller, letting her shoulders fall back as she greeted him. “Hello! It’s Candy Pop, right?” She asked, offering her hand. Laughing Jill had rarely interacted with the jester before, since she was scarcely at the factory, and Pop always seemed more interested in Jason than Jack. 

Candy Pop smiled, amused as he reached his own hand out, shaking hers. It was a very awkward handshake, seeing as he was upside down, but they both managed to make it work. “You are the other one’s sister, yes?” Candy Pop asked her. She nodded back at him.

“We aren’t biologically related, since we were both created- oh, that rhymes!” She said with a giggle. Candy Pop stared back at her blankly. She laughed again, awkwardly, playing with the ribbon tied around her collar. “Speaking of Laughing Jack, do you happen to know if he’s here? I can’t seem to find him anywhere,” she asked. 

Candy Pop’s bells jingled as he nodded back. “He is certainly here today. I saw him pass through just a moment ago!” Jill perked up upon hearing that. 

“Oh really? Well isn’t that fab!”

Candy Pop continued, placing a hand under his chin, a quizzical expression on his face. “Or perhaps that was an hour ago...or yesterday...hm,” he said. Jill deflated again, watching Candy Pop argue to himself. “Ah, no, no, I’ve got it all wrong again haven’t I? He is here today, he just passed through a different hallway than this one.” He completed, looking at Jill with a pleased expression. 

Jill was cautiously relieved. She asked him, “Can you point me in his direction?” Candy Pop nodded happily, reaching himself up to grab the light fixture, so that he was right-side up again. The light fixture swung from the movement.

“Why of course, little ladybird! Now let’s see, let’s see… I believe he went down _thataway_ ,” Pop pointed to Jill’s right. She had only taken a step forward before the jester called out.

“Wait!” He said, as the chandelier slowly turned him around in a circle. “I was facing this direction when Jack passed through. He went _thataway_.” Candy Pop pointed straight, down the hallway ahead of Jill. Jill nodded, moving that direction and had just opened her mouth to thank him when Pop interrupted her, changing his mind once again.

“Oh, aren’t I turned around, "He said, placing his head in his hand with a languid sigh that sounded much more at ease with his mistakes than Jill was feeling. He looked at her apologetically. “I was thinking about _you_. Try thataway instead,” he told her, pointing to her left. Jill was fuming, a realization clicking in her brain.

“Didn’t you tell me he didn’t even come down this hallway today? Why do you say that he passed through here?” She demanded. Candy Pop paused, his eyes widening. He threw his head back and let out a musical laugh, the bells on his clothes and hair laughing with him. Jill glared at him stonily, folding her arms.

“How forgetful I am!” Candy Pop finally said to her. “My dearest apologies, duckling! Allow me to right this wrong,” he grabbed hold of the light fixture again, unwrapping his legs from it. Candy Pop lowered himself from the ceiling, landing lightly on his feet. He bowed to her dramatically. “I will lead you to your Laughing Jack, and help you find him.” He rose up and brushed past Jill, going down the right hallway with a spring in each step.

Jill sputtered for a moment, before quickly following him, keeping pace. She was not keen on the idea of following this incompetent jester, sure that now the both of them were about to become terribly lost. But, she supposed that she would have gotten herself terribly lost even without the jester’s help, and at least now she wouldn’t be alone. So, she swallowed the remnants of anger on her tongue, and thanked him. 

“I really appreciate the help, Candy Pop. I hope it’s not any trouble.”

Candy Pop dispelled her attempt at gratitude away with a wave of his hand. “No trouble at all, you seem impatient to get to him.” He said lightheartedly.

Jill fretted with the ribbon tied around her collar. “Yes, it’s not terribly important, but he said about a week ago that he found this thing I wanted- he hasn’t mentioned it again and I refuse to let him forget about it, because he _will_ forget about it. He always does this sort of thing, saying something interesting and disappearing for weeks afterwards. I know it’s not on purpose, but it’s so _irritating!_ ” She rambled anxiously, before quickly stopping herself, her face flushing in embarrassment. “...So yes, I suppose I am quite impatient to find him,” she finished in a small voice.

Candy Pop still had an amused close-lipped smile on his face. There was a strange fondness in his eyes. “Sibling troubles,” he replied knowingly. Jill breathed out a laugh, relieved that he hadn’t been fazed by her rambling.

“That’s exactly what it is,” she said to him, grinning. 

“As an older sibling myself, I admit I’ve been in Jack’s shoes more than yours, but your woes are relatable nonetheless,” Candy added, matching her grin with one of his own, placing a hand to his chest. 

For a second Jill forgot to walk, her foot stalled in the ground for a split second, as she tripped forward. Her eyes widened in surprise. “You have a sibling?!” She asked him in astonishment. Why had no one mentioned this to her before? Jack never told her anything! Oh, she was going to give him an earful when she found him.

“Yes! My dear twin sister. We’re very close,” Candy Pop replied. He seemed much more jovial now, his eyes alight with excitement as he reminisced. “The two of us make quite the team! I could share with you many stories of our adventures together, but perhaps another time.” 

“That would be lovely,” Jill said, as they rounded the corner. She found herself quickly warming up to the jester, despite how irritating he had proved to be beforehand. But she had never managed to hold a grudge against someone for long. She always wondered if that was a part of her nature, as a child’s plaything, to forgive so easily. The angel must have done it on purpose, forgiveness was one of the major differences between her and Jack. “What is your sister like?” Jill asked Candy Pop.

“Rather different from you, I’d say. But you both share a great deal of irritation for your kin,” Pop said with a playful wink. 

Jill giggled. “I hope I get to meet her someday, then. We’ll bond over our annoying older siblings.” Pop slowed to a stop, reaching over to a door in the hallway.

“Oh you will,” Pop said matter of factly, “You rarely see one twin without the other. She’ll be here soon, I’m sure of it.” He turned the door handle, swinging it open without knocking, greeting the room airily. 

Laughing Jack and Jason were both there, Jason standing as he re-organized a shelf of books, various novels and tomes scattered and piled up around him, creating a bigger mess than there was in the first place. Jack sat in a rocking chair, one of his legs pulled up over the other. Mr.Glutton, Jason’s ginormous toy snake, was draped over Jack’s feathered shoulders, it’s button eyes staring goofily at the newcomers. 

Candy gestured for Jill to enter. “Lost and found again! Jason, perhaps you should consider leaving maps around the place,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with a teasing grin. Jason simply huffed, turning to Jill and giving a short nod. 

“Good to see you Jill.” Jason said deferentially.

“Same to you, Jason,” Jill responded in a polite tone. Jason then turned his attention back to Pop, a hint of a sneer on his face. 

“It isn’t _that_ hard to find your way around the factory. She’ll learn, if only to avoid having to be led around by _you._ ” Candy gave a musical laugh in response, coming further into the room and slinging an arm around Jason, who pretended to look annoyed.

Jill focused her attention onto Laughing Jack, who sighed, preemptively preparing himself for whatever Jill was going to rag on him about. He stood up from the chair, his clawed hands holding Mr.Glutton in place. 

Jill raised an eyebrow at him. “Should we go somewhere else?” She asked. He shrugged, sticking out his elbow. She wrapped her arm around it, and in a puff of smoke, they were gone. Jack teleported them to a different side of the factory, into a hallway with large windows on one side, bathing the room in a warm golden light and giving a beautiful view of the forest outside. Jill frowned in annoyance as her shoes touched the ground, the black smoke fading into mist. “How are you able to teleport so well?” She asked him grumpily. He grinned, his smile showing off his sharp teeth. 

“Because I’m better than you,” he said, unhooking his arm from hers. She crossed her arms, sticking a striped tongue out at him. He mirrored her facial expression for a second, before asking, “Whaddya want?”

“Did you have something to give me or not?” she questioned, getting straight to the point. Jack’s face went through a flurry of different expressions in a manner of seconds. Confusion that began to morph into incredulity, before realization dawned, followed by embarrassment and regret, finally landing on annoyance. 

“You came all this way for a shitty doll?” He asked her. She squawked, furious with him.

“Shitty! It better not be a shitty doll you’re giving me Jack!” Jill had been collecting dolls as a hobby for the last 25 years or so. It kept her busy, making her feel a bit like Nancy Drew, sleuthing around for old dolls. She liked to collect the ones from the mid-twentieth century, reminding her of the toys that her first friend, Mary, liked to play with.

Jack huffed in annoyance, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a doll that was a little more than a foot in length. He avoided Mr.Glutton’s hungry mouth, handing it to Jill. She let out a soft gasp upon seeing it, which made Jack snort in amusement. Jill carefully examined the doll. Hard plastic, with a jointed body and blue eyes. It was clearly made sometime in the late 1940s, or very early 50s. A smile came onto Jill’s face as she attentively brushed her fingers through the doll’s golden blonde hair, staring at the rosy, painted cheeks on the figure. “She’s beautiful,” Jill breathed, her eyes shining. 

Jack hummed, not quite agreeing with Jill’s statement but acknowledging it. “It was sitting up on a glass shelf in some kid’s house. He wasn’t even allowed to play with it! Can you imagine?”

“I can imagine,” Jill said, avoiding the obvious fact that Jack had most likely _killed_ the kid. She had never quite seen eye-to-eye with him on his games. “This is an antique, Jack. And in good condition too! This doll needs to be handled with care.”

Jack grumbled, clearly not agreeing with Jill’s statement. “Well, it’s yours now. Do whatever you want with it. Add it to your growing collection of shelves.” he finished sarcastically.

“I’ll be happy to,” Jill said pompously. “I suppose this makes up for all the trouble I went through in order to find you. You are forgiven.” She said, lifting her chin towards Jack. As expected, Jack’s feathers spiked out as he tensed his shoulders.

“Forgiven? I didn’t even say sorry. I wasn’t _going_ to say sorry!” He said belligerently. 

“I know, but I’ve decided to take the high road and forgive you anyway.” Jill said as she pet the doll’s hair, fighting to keep a smirk from slipping onto her face. This was their constant quarrel with one another- which one was better? Jack claimed that he was made first, and would talk about the love and care that had been put into his box. How meticulously it was carved, how beautifully it was painted. He would point to Jill’s box, the cheap metal tin that it was, and note the lack of care put into it.

Jill’s argument was that she was made after Jack, and that he was the prototype, the first draft, the test dummy. She was new, young, and without any of the stupid flaws that had weighed Jack down. Jack once pointed out that none of these new improvements had stopped her from getting locked inside a box for several years. But most times, they avoided touchy subjects during their petty squabbles.

Jack rolled his eyes at her. “Oh whatever, princess pretentious. I’m always worth the trouble and you know it. Besides, it’s not my fault you got lost trying to find your way around the factory.”

Jill scoffed in response. “Excuse you! I would have done just fine on my own if it weren’t for Candy Pop’s nonsensical directions! I nearly lost my head trying to keep up before he eventually just took me to you.”

Jack grinned, snickering as he wandered down the hall, not with the intent of going anywhere, just wanting to move his legs. Mr. Glutton wriggled off of Jack’s shoulders, falling to the floor with a soft _thump_ , slithering away. “Pop really is a handful, isn’t he?” Jack said from across the hall, a sharp gleam of mischief in his eye. “Fun to play pranks with, but it’s nearly impossible to have a decent conversation with him.”

Jill twisted her ribbon, looking at her doll as she thought. Yes, he had been a bit much, but he wasn’t _impossible_ to talk to, at least, not when he was talking about- Jill gasped, rounding on Jack with a fierce look in her ash-gray eyes. “Pop has a sister!” she yelled at him.

Jack turned, his eyes wide. It was odd to see him utterly dumbfounded, completely thrown off by what Jill had said. It was almost funny, but Jill held back her urge to laugh. Jack sputtered. “What? I- what? How the hell did you figure that out?” He finally exclaimed.

“He told me!” Jill shouted back. “Were you really never going to mention this to me? How have I never seen her before?”

Jack was suddenly in front of Jill, smoke curling out from underneath his sleeves. He grabbed Jill’s wrist, holding firm with a clawed hand. His voice was low as he said,” Jill, _no one_ has seen Pop’s sister before.” 

Jill leaned away from him, Jack’s grasp on her wrist keeping her in place. “What?” She asked, baffled. “That makes no sense, how-”

“Candy Pop makes no sense! That’s the point, Jill,” Jack pressed. “He’s cuckoo bananas, completely off his rocker. He can’t even remember he _has_ a sister most days.”

“So then where is she?” Jill asked, worried. She imagined another version of Candy Pop, his twin, lost and alone and afraid that no one would ever come find her. Jill pressed her lips together, trying to push back the wave of unease she felt.

Jack cracked a smile. “Hell if I know. Hell if he knows either. Jason and I have a bet going on if she’s even real or not. Jason thinks she’s dead, I think Pop’s delusional.” He finished, giggling to himself. If Jill didn’t have a doll in one hand and Jack holding the other, she would have thwacked the side of his head. Instead she glared at him, her eyes like storm clouds.

“Laughing Jack Inabox!” She said, making Jack cringe. Very few people knew the latter part of his title, and even fewer people used it. Jill did though, when she was upset with him. “You’re making bets on how delusional your friend is? Arguing the truthfulness of his words behind his back?”

“Would you rather we do it in his face?”

“Jack!” Jill shrieked, making Jack wince once again, this time from the noise.

“Alright, jeez louise, lady. You don’t have to get so pissy about it.” Jack grumbled. “But first off, Pop isn’t my friend, and neither is Jason-” Jill rolled her eyes, trying to make it obvious to Jack that she didn’t believe those words in the slightest. “-and second off, it’s none of your business what we do. So what if we made a bet? Pop’s sister can’t be found. She hasn’t shown up, and probably never will.” Jack tilted his head towards her, his white irises holding her gaze.

Jill frowned, struggling to understand what Jack was telling her. “He told me she was visiting him soon.”

“He always says that. It never happens, and he always forgets.”

“You could at least try to do something about this, can’t you? Instead of standing by and laughing,” she argued.

Jack tilted his head towards her, annoyed. “Jill. Jason and I have a handle on things. We know about Pop’s problems more intimately than you do. Just because we have a little fun from time to time doesn’t mean we’re ignoring the problem. There just isn’t any way to fix this. We don’t have enough information to really do anything.”

“Information?” Jill scoffed. “Well, he opened up to me quick. I hardly even had to ask.” Jill said pointedly.

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. “And what did he say?”

“He told me that they’re twins, he’s the older one… he mentioned that her personality’s very different from mine...and, uhm…”She struggled to recall anything else Pop had told her. Jack had a knowing smirk on his face, and Jill’s irritation rose. She hated when he was right, especially if it meant that _she_ was wrong.

“Did he even tell you his twin’s name?” Jack asked her dryly.

“It’s not like we talked that long, he said he would tell me more about her later!” She defended. 

“Right,” Jack responded, sounding unconvinced. “Her name’s Candy Cane, by the way.” Jack released his grip on her as she fumed, a smug look on Jack’s face from winning their little argument. She snatched her arm away, folding them together as she glared, her chin still lifted in the air haughtily. Her gray eyes shone with uncertainty though, despite her obvious attempts to hide it. 

“So what about it then? Candy Pop might be a little vague about his sister, but it makes him happy to talk about her! I’m sure he would have told me more eventually,” she said, still unwilling to back down on her last point.

Jack waved his hands, shaking his head. “No, no, no. You caught him on a good day. Most of the time he can’t remember her, or he gets freaked out when he _tries_ to remember her. Just- next time you see Pop, don’t ask about his sister. Don’t mention it, don’t even say her name. It just confuses him.”

Jill made a sound of disapproval, and Jack interrupted her before she could start talking. “Trust me, Jill, don’t bother. It’s not worth the trouble even if he does remember her. Be a pal and shut yer bone box around him, yeah?” Jill continued to glare at him for a minute, before huffing and breaking eye contact, giving Jack a short nod. Jack sighed, roughing up the hair in the back of his head with a clawed hand. He seemed relieved to stop talking about this.

“Well then. Now that that’s sorted out, I guess I’ll be off.” Jack paused, and lifted his eyebrows. “Unless you need a lift?” He asked. She rolled her eyes, grumbling, walking over to him and linking arms, doll in her other hand. He grinned at her, and she glared at him.

“You are NOT better than me, Laughing Jack.”

“Keep thinking that, doll,” He responded, and with a flick of his fingers, black smoke surrounded them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flâneur: a french noun that refers to a person who strolls around, representing the ability to wander detached from society with no other purpose than to be an acute observer. Fits Candy Pop rather well, yes? 
> 
> I'm glad I was able to make Pop a little sillier in this chapter. This is my first time writing Jill too! I hope you enjoy my interpretation of her.


	3. The Angel of Rancid and Rotting Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Candy Pop helps Jason sleep and plans a prank with Laughing Jack

The tall grasses and wildflowers swayed with the gentle breeze, sunlight making the world seem warm and honey soaked. The wind pushed up against Candy Pop’s clothes and hair playfully, ringing the bells attached to him. He blinked, his violet eyes gazing at the picturesque landscape before him.

Something swirled in the back of his mind, an indistinct tug, so faint he could barely sense it. Was he looking for something? His eyes drifted downwards, gazing at the wildflowers. He bent down, his hands brushing against the grass as he plucked a poppy from the ground, twirling it around as he examined it.

He shifted his body, changing into a purple mist, the landscape fading around him with a rush of air, morphing into pastel walls and warm wooden flooring. Candy Pop’s body reformed and a few moments later he heard a sigh coming from another room. He followed the sound, his movements nearly inaudible if it weren’t for the soft noise of bells. 

Jason looked up as Candy Pop entered the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, a cup of tea in his hands. 

“Hello, Poppet,” Jason said quietly. His shoulders were slumped, and Candy Pop could see the quiet buzz of tiredness that wrapped around him in pieces. “Where have you been?” Candy Pop thought about the answer to that question. A golden yellow color came to mind, but he couldn’t tell if it was a memory or if he was just thinking about Jason’s eyes. His own eyes wandered from Jason’s face, back down to the flower in his hand, which he offered to Jason silently. He hoped this would serve as some sort of answer.

Jason let out a soft oh as he gently took the poppy from the other’s hands, his ears turning pink. He struggled to keep his face indifferent as he said, “you’ve brought me a dirty plant. How thoughtful of you.” 

Candy Pop smiled. He moved so they were shoulder to shoulder, leaning against the counter as well. Jason sighed, shifting his feet so he was leaning against Pop now. Jason was solid, the weight grounding Candy Pop to something real. “I can’t sleep tonight,” Jason said without prompting. “I was hoping the tea would help, but I feel even more awake than I did before.” There was an unspoken question in what he said. Candy answered it for him.

“If it is sleep that you wish for, it is sleep I can give.” He offered his hand to Jason. The toymaker placed his teacup on the counter, flower in one hand, taking Pop’s hand with the other. Jason led him out the room and down the hallway. Moonlight cascaded through the windows, bathing their pathway in light, without the need for an electric light source. A thought flitted through Candy Pop’s head, like the flash of a minnow in a stream. Hadn’t it been daytime, just a short while ago? Did he come from somewhere else? And then he felt the soft pull of Jason’s hand, and the thought swam away as he focused instead on how the moonlight touched Jason’s red hair.

Jason’s bedroom was plain, having only the essentials. The bed was in the center of the room, and was a lovely shade of light blue, with a small brown nightstand beside it. On top of the wooden drawer was a notepad, with a few glitter gel-pens beside it. Jason laid the poppy on top of the nightstand before getting into the bed. Pop pulled up a chair and sat beside him.

Jason looked up at Candy Pop, a gentle smile on his face. “...thank you Poppet.” He looked like he wanted to say more, his forehead creasing as he struggled for words. Pop moved his hand to brush stray hairs from Jason’s face, a light purple mist emerging from Candy, softly settling around the toymaker. 

Candy Pop shushed him. “Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber, my love.” Jason relaxed, and his eyes fluttered closed. Pop sat as the purple mist did it’s job, watching as sleep washed over the toymaker, erasing the buzzing tiredness from his body in the same way that ocean waves erased lines drawn in the sand. 

He stayed there for some time, until he was sure that Jason was in a deep sleep. An innocent sleep. Sleep that soothes away all our worries. Sleep that puts each day to rest. Sleep, the main course in life’s feast, and the most nourishing.

He considered staying for longer, waiting until the mist eased and Jason began to dream. But Candy Pop was not hungry, and something stirred strangely in his gut at the thought of devouring Jason’s dreams.

So Candy Pop turned into mist, feeling himself fall and land somewhere new as his body rematerialized. Rocky cliffs and dark foamy waters greeted him. He wondered, vaguely, what he was doing here. Something in the back of his mind churned. 

When Candy Pop eventually returned to the factory, it was early afternoon. The toys were active and playful, jumping and springing around. Candy Pop paid them little attention as he breezed past, wandering about. He liked that Jason used his imagination so effectively, turning his dreams into real things, made of fabric and fluff. But the toys themselves were of no interest to Pop.

A voice called out to him, and Pop looked up to see Laughing Jack walking towards him, arms outstretched. “Heya Popped! There ya are,” he said as the distance closed between them. Jack slung an arm around Pop’s shoulders, resting on them much like Mr.Glutton had often rested on Jack’s own shoulders. Candy Pop liked when he did this, the soft, heavy, fabric grounding him.

“Where’s Jason?” The clown asked, knowing that Candy tended to seek out Jason’s company the most when he visited. Candy Pop tried to recall the last time he had seen the toymaker. It was like pushing through raw cotton, a thick layer of gauze obscuring any sense of time or place. He could envision Jason, a small smile on the toymaker’s face as he looked up at Candy Pop. Pop felt the corners of his own lips tilt upwards at the memory. “Somewhere pleasant,” he answered vaguely, as the recollection was swallowed up into the fog again.

Jack nodded lightly, as if that had answered his question completely. He changed topics. “Great, great, you know I’m glad to have run into you. Jason and I got into an argument yesterday morning about whether chess or checkers was better- obviously it’s checkers, I mean why overcomplicate it?- so I decided to mess with him a little.” As he talked, he led Candy Pop down the corridor, using his arm to push Pop forward. “I’m gonna paint all his stupid little chess pieces, give ‘em a nice little paint job. Thing is, I don’t know what colors to paint them that will actually piss him off. Blue? He likes blue. Pink and red are out of the question, same with green and purple- I mean he likes _you,_ after all- maybe a yellowish brown?”

Candy Pop hummed, listening to Jack ramble. At this point, the clown was basically performing a soliloquy. Often if Pop was silent for long enough, Jack would come to a conclusion on his own. But Candy surmised that the clown preferred talking to himself with someone, rather than doing it solitary. “Why don’t you try orange? A light green may bother him as well,” Candy suggested helpfully. 

Jack’s face lit up, his smile stretching across his face devilishly. His arm slipped off of Pop’s shoulder. “Absolutely spiffing suggestion, Pop. I can’t believe the color orange never crossed my mind.” He let out an excited cackle, tapping his clawed fingers together and bouncing on his toes with an almost childlike- or maybe villainous- excitement. Before he teleported off, Jack asked Candy Pop, “Wanna help paint the pieces with me?”

Pop smiled back, a glint in his eyes as he bowed. “An opportunity for mischief should never go unanswered, ‘nuncle.” If Jack’s grin could get any wider, it did so now as he once again slung an arm over the jester, a black smoke curling around them.

Teleporting with Jack was different from the shifting, falling sensation of Pop’s own unique way of travel. Instead of his body becoming mist, he was surrounded by it on all sides, lurching into a new place like a magician pulling a tablecloth out from the bottoms of dishes.

It was interesting how neither Jack nor his sister seemed to be aware of this lurch, even though it clearly affected Jill’s teleportation so much more. Pop felt himself land on carpet, the pitch black smoke fading away. In the middle of the room they were in, was a table upon which several chess boards were stacked. 

“I’ll be right back with the paint,” Jack said quickly, and disappeared with another puff of smoke before Pop could say anything in response. A minute passed, and Pop was leaning on the doorframe, trying to remember why he was down this hallway specifically, when smoke burst out in front of him, spiraling out and refusing to disappear easily.

Jill straightened, spotting Candy Pop immediately and jumping a little in surprise. Pop smiled and waved at her. She returned the gesture with one of her own, giggling happily. 

“What a pleasant surprise this is!” Jill said to him cheerfully.

Candy Pop couldn’t agree more with the statement. He was always rather delighted to see Jill, and she always seemed to return the feeling. “Pleasant indeed, little ladybird. How has your night been?”

Jill’s eyebrows scrunched together, but she was still smiling as she said, “Well my _morning_ has been a bit hectic, but I hope my night will go better. What are you standing here for?”

Candy Pop looked up and down the hallway, before turning to Jill. “You, I suppose,” he said finally. Jill’s face scrunched up more now, confusion overlapping her pleasant demeanor. 

“Me? I didn’t tell anyone I was coming.” 

Candy Pop shrugged. “Well, someone was bound to show up here eventually. I’m sure of it.” 

Jill paused, her smile slowly lessening into a more thoughtful expression. “Um...were you perhaps waiting on...your sister?” She asked the question cautiously, hesitantly. 

Pop laughed at her merrily. He shook his head at her. “A sister? A strange guess, duckling. If I do not have a mother, a sister would be an odd occurrence indeed.”

Jill looked at him strangely. “Are you sure?”

Jill was slightly different from the other two. She always paid rapt attention to his side of the conversation. Sometimes Pop appreciated this. Sometimes the tugging sensation in the back of his mind ripped open, and he could see a little more clearly through the fog. He enjoyed talking about his life, and telling stories of his daring and reckless past. But other times, well, Pop couldn’t understand what on earth she could be talking about. Jason had once referred to Jill as “A flighty, ditzy little doll who never stopped talking” and Pop found the statement to be at least partially true. But when Jill’s stone-grey eyes looked at him with an almost eagle-like precision, the word “ditzy” rarely came to mind.

Pop looked at her in confusion. And then he actually tried to think about it. Was he sure? Suddenly he felt like he was standing on a rowboat in the middle of a storm, water furiously rocking him back and forth in an attempt to unbalance him. Something upended in his head, and suddenly he was aware of the thick fog that pervaded his skull.

“I…” Candy said softly… he blinked at her, his eyes becoming quite serious and sad. “What happened?” He asked her. She seemed as confused as he was.

“What?” She asked.

He shook his head, and dipped back into the room behind him, going to the table and opening the boxes, scrounging through them as his desperation began to rise. “No, no, no,” he whispered. “Where...what is...wasn’t it just here? What I was looking for? I was just next to- to-” To what? He didn’t know. And it scared him so much.

He was on a rowboat, desperate to not get thrown overboard by the waves. But in the back of his mind, he understood that something else had fallen into the ocean. Something he desperately wished to have back.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, and he was pulled from the crashing waves of his thoughts, and became aware of arguing.

“What the hell did you say to him? I was gone three minutes-” Came Jack’s rough, scratchy voice. He was pulling Pop away from the table as he snarled at Jill, who looked like she was about to burst into tears. She fiddled with the white ribbon around her collar as she squeaked out in a high pitched tone, “I just thought I’d give it a try! Last week he remembered her!”

“Last week?” Jack exclaimed, and Jill winced. “When I said, ‘don’t ask about Pop’s sister’, what exactly did you hear?” 

Jill threw her arms down and wailed out, “I’m sorry, ok! He always gets so happy to talk about her and nothing like this-” She motioned wildly towards Candy Pop, who was currently trying to figure what all the fuss was about “-had ever happened before! I thought you were just being pessimistic and exaggerating like you always are!”

Jack’s feathers puffed up as he reared back. “What are you talking about? I don’t do either of those things, I’m _realistic,_ not pessimistic-”

Jill scoffed. “Right, a _realistic_ imaginary friend, that doesn’t sound like an oxymoron or anything.”

“I am not a moron either- wait, I didn’t hear that right, shut up!”

Candy Pop looked between the two monochrome clowns, his head swinging back and forth as a lukewarm smile slipped onto his face. He still felt the persistent tugging on his skull, reminding him there was something important he had to attend to. But watching these two was rather amusing. He supposed he could finish doing...well _whatever_ it was, at a later time. How similar the two clowns looked, standing so close together. Suppose one of them did not have a looking-glass to peer into, they could simply stare at the other. There were minor differences, of course. Jill had shorter, longer hair. Perhaps she could be considered more feminine than her counterpart, but only slightly. _Toys cut from the same cloth,_ Pop thought appreciatively. 

Jack cut their argument short, finally turning to face Pop. His black, clawed hands gripped Candy Pop’s upper arms tightly, applying pressure that may have been painful if Candy Pop were human. Jack looked into the jester’s eyes, scanning him. He seemed uncomfortable as he asked, “How ya feeling, Popped?” His discomfort made sense, neither of the two were in the habit of being emotionally vulnerable with each other.

Pop tried to think of the answer. His mind felt cloudy. He chuckled, a twinge of nervousness in the laugh as he said in a breezy voice, “I’m feeling slightly lost in this conversation. Was I...Is there something important that I’m forgetting?” Something had slipped from him once again. Some faint echo of a memory had weaseled out of his grasp while he was distracted. 

Jack’s eyes lit up, and Pop was thankful for it. The sudden certainty in Jack’s white eyes was much better than the sad confusion in Jill’s grey ones. “Ahah! Right, Jill has managed to pull your interest away from the rather excellent prank we were planning to pull on Jason!” Jack said, gesturing over to the table. 

Candy Pop felt something click into place. He did remember Jack rambling about this! “Ah memory, warder of the brain! I cannot believe I allowed myself to forget!” Pop said cheerfully. Jack handed off some paint and a brush to Pop and turned to Jill. 

“We’ll finish our conversation later,” he said, an edge of seriousness to his tone. Jill nodded stiffly, and teleported off in another violent display of smoke.

Jack picked up a pawn, taking a brush and dipping it into some yellow paint. “If Jason doesn’t throw a fit over this, I’ll kill him.” Candy laughed in response.

A few hours later, Pop was doing some aerials from a chandelier (Something he vaguely remembered Jason yelling at him for, he wondered why) when he heard a strangled shout. Naturally, Pop decided to head over there. These things were guaranteed entertainment.

Jason had a fistful of chess pieces in his hand, the board had been thrown across the floor, the rest of the pieces scattered on the floor. “This should be considered a crime! Does that half-assed Jack in a box think he can just get away with this?” Jason shouted to the various toys in the room, who mirrored his agitated and enraged state. Pop had slunk in, and leaned against the wall to watch with utter delight.

“Ruined! Absolutely ruined!” Jason said, looking at the pieces in his hand. The bishop had been painted orange, with light green spots. The knight had yellowish-brown stripes applied. The board itself had been painted completely black, the checked squares no longer visible. “Exactly how many of these did he mess with?” 

Candy Pop tilted his head trying to remember. “How many boards do you have?” He asked Jason. Jason flinched, not realizing until that moment that Candy Pop was in the room. He briefly forgot his anger, looking at Pop in bewilderment before his face turned to one of furious outrage.

“Did you have something to do with this?!” Jason shouted at him. Candy Pop shrugged coyly.

“I'll never tell.” He jumped to the side as chess pieces flew at him, laughing mirthfully. 

Jason’s hair was far from it’s usual red, nearly white as he continued his barrage of insults against Pop and Jack. “-Stupid, mindless, buffonary! What is even the point of it? Why on earth did you two imbeciles spend so much time on something so dumb!”

“Because you’re cute when you’re angry?” Pop offered, dodging the pawn that was aimed at his head. He quickly ducked out of the room, running away as Jason shouted after him. He laughed breathlessly, his sprinting turning into a spring-step as he went through the halls. His mind went to Laughing Jack, and immediately his body shifted into mist, rematerializing somewhere else in the factory. Jack should get to see Jason’s reaction firsthand. 

The first thing he saw when his body reformed was not one clown, but two. Jack and Jill standing near each other, their voices strained with anger. Candy Pop blinked.

Their dreams clung to them in the same way dew clings to grass in the early light of the morning. Candy Pop could see it, the fears that they pushed down and ignored in the daytime clung to their wrists and necks, waiting for the loneliness of the night to fall to begin suffocating them. He saw their hopes, tattered and ripped apart, hanging off their bodies like rags. He had always seen them like this. But the heavy emotions, the familiarity, made it much more present than before.

“Why can’t you just drop it? This has nothing to do with you, with any of us! Leave it alone,” Jack argued.

“Leave it alone? You can’t be seriously suggesting that, LJ.”

“You know what I meant! Stop digging up the past, let it stay dead. Pop doesn’t need you picking his brain for memories.”

Pop heard his name, faintly. He could tell that the two hadn’t noticed his presence yet, tilting his head as he watched their dreams shift and cling to their bodies.

“He wants to tell me about his past, when he can remember it, anyway-”

Jack interrupted her, raising his voice. “But what good does it do if he’s going to forget it all again? Trying to remind him of his past doesn’t do him any favors.”

Jill stamped his foot, throwing her arms out and wailing. “I don’t know, ok! But I’ve seen how happy he gets when he talks about her, and maybe if I can get him to tell me something important about her, or if I can help him remember she exists, then, then maybe-” She cut off, burying her face into her hands. Candy Pop’s eyes narrowed, barely listening to the conversation. Wasn’t it interesting how a toy could contain dreams? That’s what the two clowns were, children’s toys. Yet, unlike Jason’s toys, they didn’t _just_ hold the dreams of their creator, or the children they played with. They had wills and wants of their own.

Jack scoffed, shaking his head in disdain. Jill spoke again, finishing her thought, her voice slightly muffled. “-Maybe we can find her.”

Jack’s tone was deadpan. “Jill. You say that as if proving her existence would be a good thing.”

“It could be!” Jill said desperately. “You don’t know why she’s not around! She- she might just be busy.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. This is delusional. How can you sit around and make excuses like this? Haven’t you learned from experience that sometimes people don’t care enough to come back?”

“Maybe she’s stuck! Maybe she’s trapped somewhere and can’t get out!” Jill pressed, tears in her eyes. “What if you have it wrong, and she’s the one that needs to be found?” There. Candy Pop saw the shifting mass of fear grip their necks tighter. What terrible dreams they were. Pop’s mouth watered.

Jack screwed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. “Stop.” he hissed out, a painful expression on his face. He looked as if he were trying to unscrew the bad memories from his head. Jill went quiet, a guilty, worried expression on her face. She twisted the ribbon on her collar, threading it between her fingers.

“I’m just worried for them,” Jill finished quietly.

Oh, how silly they could be. Pretending this conversation was still about someone else, and not just another attempt to stitch their broken pieces back together. Jack sighed, ruffling the back of his hair with a claw. “I know.” He said stiffly. “I don’t like any of this either. I can’t imagine what it would be like, not being able to remember...to remember your own past.” Jack stopped talking for a moment, a tentacle of fear squeezing his neck shut. When it loosened, Jack forced out, “But Pop doesn't need to be _fixed._ We can't change what we don't understand, and I don't want to understand if it means changing him. As long as he's happy, then why bother ruining it with the past?”

Jill hesitantly nodded. Pop was realizing he was quite hungry, but hesitated to leave and find a meal. He tapped his chin, pondering. Was there something he was supposed to mention to one of the clowns? He glanced over. They still hadn’t noticed his presence. Pop shrugged to himself, his body shifting into mist. He figured whatever it was, Jason would probably tell them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, boy a have a lot of notes for ya. There are three Shakespeare quotes in this chapter.  
> "Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber" is Julius Caesar.  
> "Innocent sleep. Sleep that soothes away all our worries...and the most nourishing" is a no-fear Shakespeare translation of Macbeth.  
> "Memory, warder of the brain" is also a Macbeth quote.  
> Candy Pop calls LJ "'nuncle" at one point. This is a reference to King Lear, in which the character the Fool often calls Lear 'nuncle. it's just an odd spelling of the word uncle. Pop calls LJ this to make fun of him for often acting like a grumpy old man, but also to show how close their relationship is.  
> I didn't actually expect to make a chapter from Candy Pop's POV, originally this was supposed to be from Jill's perspective again, but I think this was much better.

**Author's Note:**

> My inspiration for Candy Pop comes largely from Shakespeare's play King Lear. Uhm, yes, that play IS a tragedy, why do you ask? Also s/o to my friend for beta reading this.


End file.
